


woah, dream smp short stories

by dyve_the_author



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Drabbles, Dream Smp, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, George and Quackity are siblings lmaooo, Ghostbur, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, One Shot, POV First Person, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Trans Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Trans Floris | Fundy, Trans Male Character, boyfriends au, dadboyhalo, i know it doesn’t match up with the smp canon shhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyve_the_author/pseuds/dyve_the_author
Summary: just a place where i can write all my dream smp ideas at. i am taking requests (as long as they’re not nsfw) so feel free to suggest some stuff.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Eret, Alexis | Quackity & GeorgeNotFound, Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity & TommyInnit, Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt, Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dream/Georgenotfound/Sapnap/Wilbur Soot/Technoblade/Fundy, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Sam | Awesamdude & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Tommyinnit
Comments: 9
Kudos: 249





	1. regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is just a short story about wilbur and schlatt meeting in the after life.

**pov: third person**

**character(s): wilbur soot, jschlatt**

**warning(s): none**

**au: none (takes place after pogtopia vs manburg war)**

wilbur walks through the smp, glancing at the remnants. the pieces that somehow didn’t get blown up by the last crack in his sanity. he finds the pitch black spot at the end of the smp, the place no one has explored yet. he’s sure the spot will get further the more they explore the smp, but for now it stays pretty close to pogtopia. he was too afraid to enter the void (as he calls it) but for now he’ll chance it and go through. the inside is just like he expected it to be. dark, mysterious, and definitely frighting. you couldn’t see a damn thing in there, except maybe another person which is exactly what wilbur saw. 

“schlatt?” he asks, reaching out towards the figure. a boy with goat like features turns around to face him. wilbur is in shock. he looks the way he did before joining the smp. he looks younger in a way what with his blue sweater and light, almost white, hair. a sense of security runs through wilbur knowing that he’ll act the same way he did then too. now that he takes a look at it, he’s a younger version of himself too. 

“hey, look who made it.” schlatt greets. wilbur attempts to sigh but ends up chuckling instead. “yeah, kind of ended up getting the short end of the stick too.” he tries to continue the conversation the best he can without making it awkward. “glad to know i at least beat you to something, even if it was dying.” he jokes. “how do you manage to still be funny even after you’re dead?” wilbur asks. it’s schlatt’s turn to laugh now. “i just am. good to know you haven’t changed after dying either.” he comments. wilbur nods, “do we have a truce now? i mean, we kind of have to stay here for the rest of time since...y’know?” schlatt pretends to think. “nah.” he smirks. wilbur pushes him, laughing, “you’re such a dick.” the two share a moment of laughter before finally calming down. 

“god i missed this.” wilbur smiles. “what? just being good friends and laughing at each other?” schlatt looks at the british boy. “yeah. it’s nice. especially after the whole election and war ordeal. you’re kind of nice without your whole dictator complex.” he pokes fun at the other boy. schlatt shoves wilbur. the brit falls to the ground immediately but he laughs it off. he’s known schlatt for a while and knows he doesn’t mean it. “i take back the good friends part.” he crosses his arms and pretends to be mad. wilbur can’t help but laugh. he hasn’t been like this in a while. the two stay in the void and talk about everything. the events of the war, the aftermath, and what started l’manburg in the first place. 

“wait, so you’re telling me that the reason why you started a war was because dream wouldn’t let you do drugs on his smp?” schlatt bursted into laughter. “as much as i hate to admit it, yes.” wilbur sighs. schlatt wheezes on the floor with him. “that’s the dumbest reason to start a war y’know.” he says after regaining his composure enough to sit. “i know, i just wanted to spice things up a bit.” wilbur admits. schlatt looks outside the void and spots pogtopia, “well you sure did. i mean, look at the place! all the buildings and secret tunnels. it was all built cause you wanted to have fun.” “pretty much.” the british boy reminisces back to when he first moved into the smp. he remembers how bare everything was and how there were still plenty of trees and land to build things. 

“you did have fun right?” the younger asks. wilbur looks outside the void too. he can spot tommy’s many cobblestone towers and the rollercoaster, hell even the holiday home. he smiles taking in everything. “i guess so.” schlatt notices his smile and smiles too. 

“hey schlatt.” he calls. the goat-like boy turns around and looks at him, “yeah?” “do you regret it?” he asks. “regret it? regret what?” he pretends to be clueless. “y’know, becoming a dictator, kicking out me and tommy, becoming an alcoholic.” wilbur lists the things schlatt’s done during their time in the smp. schlatt takes a second to actually think about his response. “now that i think about it, yeah, i do. i regret so much. i initially entered the election as a joke and now look where it got us. as soon as i was elected president i just felt overwhelming power and threw out you and tommy for shits and giggles. just because the idea of being a villain was fun. turns out it wasn’t. the night i threw you guys out i regretted it. i came to my senses and wanted the two of you to return but god knows you guys wouldn’t listen. so i didn’t.” he rants. his hand movements get more frantic as he continues to talk. schlatt sighs and turns to wilbur, “so what about you big guy. what do you regret?” 

“everything really. i shouldn’t have ran for president. the smp was fine as it was. i shouldn’t have blown up l’manburg. the one chance to bring back everything i worked so hard for and i wasted it. blew it up and tore it to shreds. tommy and tubbo looked so happy but i had to ruin it for them. they’re just kids man, i should’ve been there for them. i should’ve saved the last bits of l’manburg we had left for them. i was so selfish man. and god phil was there too and he witnessed the whole thing and-” “and that’s how you died. right?” schlatt cut him off. he could tell wilbur was on the verge of tears. he so clearly didn’t want to talk about it but he went on anyways. he needed to get it out, but that doesn’t mean he wanted to.

wilbur nods in response. schlatt does something. it’s impulsive, it’s reckless, and it’s way out of his comfort zone. wilbur stiffens at the sudden contact. he looks to his side and sees the goat boy hugging him. he hugs him back. they sit there for a while in the void as the light from the smp slowly gets dimmer, indicating nightfall. 

“remember when you asked if we had a truce?” schlatt asks, still holding on to the british boy. “yeah.” wilbur replies. “well, we’ve always had a truce. we’ve been friends for god knows how long. we just grew up and had separate ideals. but now that we’re dead, well, i wouldn’t mind being stuck in the after life with you.” wilbur takes this opportunity to poke fun at him. “awe so you do love me!” he teases. “i take that back, being dead with you is the worst and no one should ever have to experience it.” schlatt immediately lets go of him as wilbur chuckles. schlatt’s pretend anger slowly starts to fizzle out as he begins to laugh alongside the british boy, an experience he wishes to keep and an experience he doesn’t regret. 


	2. (1/2) break ups are hard, even if your s/o is toxic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quackity breaking up with schlatt and remembering everything they did together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for reference, george and quackity are brothers in this au. 
> 
> (yes i’m splitting this into two parts cause it’s getting pretty long)

**pov: third person**

**character(s): quackity, jschlatt, tommy, technoblade, philza, tubbo, dream, wilbur, fundy, sapnap, george, eret**

**warning(s): (past) toxic relationship, ptsd, description of a panic attack**

**au: boyfriends au**

quackity sat criss crossed on the grass with his friends. a smile spread across his face as george and techno bickered about something (probably related to dream). wilbur chuckled and continued to play an original song he wrote on his guitar. dream sat there too, laughing at the commotion his boyfriend and techno were making amongst the sound of wilbur’s singing. eret sat with the group on the grass, shades pressed against his face, smiling just like the rest. 

quackity enjoyed moments like this. it made him forget about schlatt and he didn’t have to worry about anything. he knew, like always, that this moment wouldn’t last. his phone went off and everyone stopped what they were doing. they knew what was going to happen. they knew that quackity would have to go home and endure another argument with schlatt over the phone and come back the next day even more broken than before. they all looked at him, concerned and scared for what might happen this time around. quackity put on a fake smile and waved it off. 

“i’ll be fine guys i promise. i’ll be back tomorrow.” he said, hoping that this promise prevails and that he’ll actually show up tomorrow instead of moping around in bed all day. “are you sure you want to go back? remember, you can tell us if something’s wrong.” dream asked. he wanted to tell them so bad. he wanted to tell them that he was too scared to go home and hear schlatt yell at him over the phone, but alas he didn’t. “yeah it’s alright man. i can handle it.” he put on his fake smile and left the group. his mind wandered to what schlatt could possibly yell at him for this time. 

“why do you hang around them so much? do i not mean that much to you? it feels like you’re betraying me, cheating even!” schlatt yelled at him over the phone’s speakers. quackity winced at this tone but said nothing. he let it happen. he was at his breaking point. “i mean seriously, what do they have that i don’t? am i not enough for you?” there he goes again, guilt tripping him into trusting and putting him first. quackity still didn’t budge. 

“what, so you’re just not gonna answer me now?” he egged on. he wanted him to break, to snap, he was waiting for some kind of reaction. a sign of weakness. quackity mumbled something on the other end. “i can’t fucking hear you,” schlatt was slowly getting more aggravated. “what did you say to me?” quackity snaps. “i said i do it to avoid you!” he shouted. schlatt flinched on the other end.

“god you’re so wrapped up in that fucking ego of yours you can’t even see that you’re hurting me! the reason i hang out with them is to avoid your fucking wrath. every time i see you it feels like you hate me more and more and i cant fucking stand it! they make me feel at home and with you i feel like i’m being dragged around, being promised something good if i stick around longer but it never happens.” he continued to rant. schlatt will not get away without hearing what he has to say. he didn’t build all this up for 3 years for nothing. “so this is it. i’m fucking done. goodbye schlatt. i’m tired of your shit.” he sighed before hanging up.

he did it. he actually did it. he finally broke up with schlatt. he feels a mix between empowerment and sadness, but most of all he feels proud. proud that he got it over with, and that he has no one holding him back anymore. despite this monumental moment, a wave of sadness hits him. he crumbles to the ground and starts to sob. the shouting was enough to alert george as he knocks on the door to his brother’s room. 

“y-you can come in.” quackity sniffles. george opened the door and sat on the floor with him. “are you alright? i heard all the shouting from downstairs.” he asks. quackity nods, “i just broke up with schlatt that’s all.” george’s eyes widen in shock. “you-you did what?” “i broke up with schlatt.” he repeats. george gently pats his back, “good on you. i’m glad you took the initiative.” “i feel like shit.” quackity mumbles, scrunching his knees up to his chest. “i know you do. break ups are hard, even if the other person is toxic.” george tries his best to comfort him. “i feel free, for sure, but i still can’t shake all the memories we made. all the fun stuff we did. i was happy, but i think i was lying to myself by thinking about better times.” the younger sighs.

“it’s okay. i know you loved him but it’s about time you let go. of course, it won’t be easy on either of you, but you’ll make it. you’re strong big q.” george smiles. quackity looks up at his older brother and smiles too. “come on, bad let us go visit dream and them this weekend!” george puts his hand out. quackity takes it and stands up. he wipes away his tears and follows george outside. 

it’s been years since the break up with schlatt. as of now, quackity is a 20 year old man hanging out with his old friends, along with techno and wilbur’s family, at an amusement park. he looks over at techno and george who are competing with each other at all the games. some things never change. eret and quackity are going on all the rides with tommy and tubbo whilst philza monitors the four of them. wilbur is standing with dream, talking about whatever comes to mind. fundy and sapnap are just trying to get all the best prizes, often helping the other person that falls behind. 

it’s moments like these that quackity enjoys the most. the moments where he’s free and doesn’t have to worry about a phone call. he walks with the rest of the group as techno and tommy complain about their feet hurting. dream swiftly picks techno up and smirks. the two playfully bicker about it before dream sets him down again. quackity smiles. he’s happy that his friends are happy. he observes the other people at the amusement park. they’re all holding hands. so many couples are out here tonight. _the memories are settled in._

_“i want that one!” he shouted, pointing to a large duck plush. schlatt chuckled, “that one? it’s huge! you won’t be able to carry it.” “who said i was going to be the one carrying it?” quackity smirked. schlatt sighed. “fine. if you win, i have to carry it. but if i win, you have to carry it. deal?” he asked. schlatt considered this and gave him a devilish smirk, “deal.” quackity left the stand with the large duck plush in hand._

_“at least i got it.” he smiled, holding it close. schlatt pretended to get angry, “oh, so the plush gets more attention than me. i see how it is.” quackity giggled, “well i should be thanking you, you won.” “you know i did baby! and that means you lost the bet.” he laughed. “i know. thank you though. i’m surprised you even agreed.” he admitted. “why wouldn’t i? anything for my little duck.” schlatt kissed his hand. quackity turned red and pushed him away. the two laughed it off and continued to explore the amusement park._

tears prick quackity’s eyes. _not now_ he tells himself. _not while everyone else is happy._ he continues on with the group. they stop at a roller coaster. tommy makes fun of dream for being afraid of heights. wilbur holds dream’s hand and tells him that he’ll go with him. everyone gets in line for the roller coaster. quackity remembers the time when him and schlatt went on a roller coaster.

_“come on quackity!” schlatt grabbed his hand. “no.” he pouted. “please. for me?” schlatt tried to convince him. quackity sighed, “fine. but if i get sick that’s on you.” schlatt chuckled, “you won’t i promise.” they sit on the cart of the roller coaster. schlatt felt quackity’s fear rising and carefully held his hand. “it’ll be alright.” he reassured him. quackity rested his head on schlatt’s shoulder, hand in his hand. he stayed like this and waited for it to start. he felt safe._

the memory hits him like a bus, but it’s not enough to break him. he’s learned to suppress it over the years. he knows those moments meant nothing to schlatt and they shouldn’t matter to him either. and they didn’t, for the most part. tommy senses he’s uncomfortable and gently places a hand on his shoulder. 

“hey big q, you can always get off. i know something has been bothering you all day, maybe you should take a quick break. i’ll get off with you if you want.” he suggests. quackity, like always, waves it off. “i’m fine tommy. it’s just been a while since i’ve been on a roller coaster.” he lies. “i’ll be fine, don’t worry. i can handle it.” tommy can see right through him, and quackity knows he can. but he also knows that tommy doesn’t want to make a scene. tommy doesn’t ask any further questions. 

once it’s over, they get off and exit the ride. the memories have been eating away at him the whole day. the roller coaster was his breaking point. he couldn’t hold back. he had to make up a lie, something believable. his breathing starts to speed up. his throat is getting dry. he needs to make up something quick.

“i think i should go now. karl said he wanted to do something tomorrow so i should probably head out.” he lies right through his teeth. george notices his odd behavior, of course his brother would notice. “do you want me to drive you home?” george asks. quackity immediately shakes his head. “no it’s fine. i can drive back.” he dismisses george’s offer. “if you say so.” george knows better than to egg on his brother, so he backs off. quackity leaves the group, breathing getting heavier and quicker within minutes. his head feels fuzzy. his vision starts to blur. he needs to get to his car quickly. 

it’s hard to find amongst the sea of other, similar, cars in the parking lot, but he spots it near the end of one of the aisles. he unlocks it and rushes to sit down in the driver’s seat. he shuts the door and locks it. he tries to steady his breathing, his vision gets even more blurry. he can’t think. he can’t move. his hands start to shake. tears prick his eyes. he feels so dizzy. he tries to think about something other than schlatt. something other than the happier times they had. something-he hears a knock on his car. he jumps up and looks at the window.

“tommy?” he stutters out. tommy motions to the passenger’s seat of the car. quackity fumbles around in his pockets looking for the key. his hands shake as he unlocks the car. tommy walks around to the right side of the car and opens the door. he closes it as he sits down. “you left in a bit of a hurry. i got worried so i went after you. you’ve been acting weird this whole night and-wait were you crying?” tommy cuts himself off once he notices the streaks of tears on quackity’s face. quackity nods. 

“i tried so hard man.” his hands start to shake again. “i tried so hard not to imagine schlatt. i tried so hard not to see his fucking face and think about all the fun we used to have. i was doing great but fuck it all came crashing down when i expected it the least.” he’s back in high school again. back where he started. thinking about schlatt, remembering better times, sitting with a friend after having a panic attack. tommy thinks about something to say, “it’s alright man. it takes a while to let go.” he feels dizzy again. he can’t move. “it was all the way back in high school man! i’m still not over it no matter how hard i try to convince myself. i’m so fucking pathetic and clingy.” tears stream down both sides of his face again. he can let them go now. as long as it’s not in public. “schlatt was an asshole of a guy alright? and look, you’re doing so much better without him! you’re having fun and making new memories without the bastard.” tommy grimaces at the thought of him. 

“it’s okay to withdrawal and reminisce a bit, but that doesn’t mean you’re weak. sometimes it happens don’t beat yourself up for it. you’re strong big q.” tommy gently smiles. quackity considers this and calms down a bit. “i-i guess so.” he wipes away his tears. he looks over at the blonde teen and smiles, “thanks tommy.” “don’t worry about it big man! i’ll see you soon.” tommy waves and exits the car. “see ya.” he waves back and drives home after he stops shaking. 

—————

“what!” quackity shouts. “that’s what i said.” his brother replies on the other line. “a fucking high school reunion? really?” he groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funny how the story immediately afterwards is about jschlatt being toxic
> 
> also, bad and skeppy are george and quackity’s parents. dont ask-


	3. (2/2) break ups are hard, even if your s/o is toxic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quackity goes to the high school reunion and faces schlatt for the last time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit shorter cause i kinda got burned out but it’s still good (i think) nonetheless.

he flops down on his bed. “you don’t have to go y’know?” george reassures him. “well if you’re going then i obviously have to show up. even though i might have to face him.” quackity shudders. “that’s exactly why i’m saying you don’t have to go. i don’t need you having a panic attack at our high school reunion. it won’t be good for you.” quackity sighs, “should i even go? i mean, i’ve always wanted to, but with the break up and all that i don’t even think i want to anymore.” “if you don’t want to go that’s fine.” george brings up again. quackity thinks about his options, but him being an impulsive fuck doesn’t help at all.

“i think i’ll go. it would be nice and, shit, maybe it’ll even help me get over it.” he replies. “are you sure you’re okay with this? you can always back out.” george is cautious. quackity, however, is not. “fuck it.” he says. “i’m going to the high school reunion.”

quackity parks his car in the school’s parking lot. he spots george and their friends by the front of the school and joins them. 

“hey you actually made it!” dream exclaims. “yeah, figured i might as well make an appearance. i did carry the whole school after all.” quackity smirks. george rolls his eyes as the group laughs. the courtyard is filled to the brim with old friends and teachers. quackity sticks with dream and his boyfriends for the majority of the event. he spots schlatt in the crowd of people and looks away immediately, hoping they didn’t make eye contact. 

schlatt, from a quick glance, looks way older. he had a small bit of stubble on his face and had really dark eye bags. what the fuck did this guy get up to while he was away? eventually, the group split leaving tommy, eret, and quackity wandering around the courtyard. he didn’t mind, personally. the sappy shit dream’s boyfriends did kind of ruined the mood of remembrance.

“hey, remember that one night we stayed on the roof of the school that one summer?” eret asks. quackity smiles, “yeah. good times.” “we almost got caught, but it was pretty fun running away and trying to hide.” eret smiles, reminiscing old memories. quackity looks at his hand. a faint scar reminds him of when he got cut by one of the sticks in the bushes that night. the three of them walk into the school’s building. quackity sees a faint yellow mark on the wall of the cafeteria and rushes over to it, tommy and eret following shortly after.

“i forgot about this.” quackity says, brushing his fingers over a graffiti drawing of a duck and a goat with a heart in the middle. “when did you do that?” eret asks. “schlatt and i wanted to leave our landmark on the school. so, one night, he brought over a bunch of markers and we snuck out to the school.” his hand grazes over the goat drawing. “he drew the duck and i drew the goat. it was our landmark. we checked it everyday to make sure no one scrubbed it off.” he smiles.

 _“are you sure this is a good idea?” quackity asked. “what if we get caught?” jschlatt smirked, “that’s the fun. we’re still young, so why not cause some trouble while leaving our landmark on the school?” quackity smiled, “okay fine.”_ _they spent minutes thinking of something to draw. they finally settled on a duck and a goat._

 _“are you fucking kidding me? i don’t know how to draw a goat and you’re making me draw one?” quackity groaned. schlatt chuckled. “it’s my signature animal babe, you know that.” “why couldn’t your signature animal be something simpler?” he sighed. “to be fair, i can’t draw for shit.” schlatt commented. quackity snorted_ , “ _i know. i’ve seen your work.” “what’s that supposed to mean?” schlatt playfully glared at him. “it means your drawings are shit.” he stuck his tongue out. “okay that’s it!” schlatt tackled the younger boy. quackity landed on the floor. the two laughed it off. schlatt gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before finding a spot on the wall._

_“right here should be good.” he pointed at the bottom right side of one of the walls. “it looks good to me.” quackity reassured. he grabbed a black marker and tried his best to draw a goat. they sat there for an hour, talking and drawing. once they were done, they stepped back to admire the piece. “it needs...something.” schlatt said. quackity grabbed a red marker, and drew a heart in between the duck and goat. he smiled. “is that good?” he asked. “it’s perfect.” schlatt replied, awestruck._

“i’m surprised the markers haven’t worn out yet.” he suppresses his tears. “i remember you telling us bad grounded you for 2 months after that.” eret chuckles. quackity smiles at the memory, “yeah. i got in a lot of trouble for staying out late. george covered for me good enough though.” “i don’t think i’ve actually seen schlatt this whole reunion. is he dead or something?” tommy jokes. as if one cue, schlatt stumbles in front of them. eret and tommy sigh as quackity’s throat runs dry.

“schlatt? what the fuck are you doing here.” quackity asks, standing up. “what am i doing here? this is a fucking high school reunion! anyone who went here can go. why? what’s wrong with me showing up? am i not good enough for you? you probably left me for eret or some shit. let’s face it, you’re not over me. you never will be. i had more of a role in your life than any of your friends did.” schlatt puts emphasis on the word _friends._ every word he says is seeping with venom, and quackity can feel the poison flowing in his veins. his breathing starts to get quicker. his hands start to shake. his head feels fuzzy. he can’t have a panic attack in front of schlatt right now! 

“you know what, let’s skip to the pleasantries.” schlatt smirks. “how are you big q? sad? scared? alone?” he eyes the younger man. eret glares at him, “get away goat fucker. we don’t want you here. all you ever did was hurt him, not help. removing him from a healthy environment isn’t what a good boyfriend does.” schlatt’s smile grows wider. “well well well, look who’s talking? mr. bisexual king himself eret. how’s it feel knowing that your parents will never accept you for being the way you are?” he glares back at him. eret keeps his glare, he doesn’t back down. “leave him alone schlatt. i know you’re an alcoholic businessman with heart issues.” eret fights back. schlatt’s eyes widen, his expression no longer playful. 

“you son of a bitch.” schlatt growls, eyes narrowing. he raises his hand to punch eret. quackity’s reflexes kick in, and he shoves schlatt to the ground. “you better not lay a fucking hand on him.” he snarls. “i’m so glad i left your ass when i had the chance. you fucking pathetic excuse of a businessman. i fucking spent years thinking back on our relationship. i spent sleepless nights thinking about what i did wrong and what i could’ve done better. i degraded myself because of you! you and your ways of getting into my head and threatening me. you and your manipulative ass heightening my fears so that i’d stick to you and not them. i said i was done. do i regret breaking up with you? yes would’ve been my answer back then. but now? i couldn’t give less of a shit about you. leave me alone, and don’t you dare think about going anywhere near my friends.” quackity shouts. he dusts himself off and leaves the cafeteria. tommy and eret follow after, giving schlatt dirty looks. 

george spots quackity and runs over to him. “mi dios alex! ¿estás herido? Jesús, estaba preocupado por ti.” he pulls him into a tight hug. “i’m fine george, no need to worry. i just ran into schlatt, told him to fuck off, and then left. don’t worry about it.” quackity explains. “you what!” george exclaims, pulling him away. “i told him that i couldn’t give a shit about him and then left. it’s fine now. i’m okay. i’m over it.” george sighs and hugs him again, “my god quackity, don’t run off like that!” quackity snorts, “you sound like bad.” “well someone has to.” he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m just glad you’re alright and that you told that piece of shit off.” george smiles. “i don’t think we’ll be hearing about him for a while.” quackity smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically what george is saying is “my god alex! are you hurt? jesus i was worried about you.” cause in the au george starts speaking in really fast spanish (yes he learned from quackity) when he gets nervous or worried.


	4. it’s only a matter of time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s never tommy’s time to die
> 
> it’s never dream’s time either

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that this doesn’t fit with the smp cannon just bear with me here. i just wanted to write some angst okay?

**pov: third person**

**character(s): tommy, dream**

**warning(s): suicidal thoughts**

**au: none (takes place in smp canon)**

tommy stares at the glowing lava below him. flickers of yellow flames spurt up every now and then from the orange pit of heat. it’s interesting how you can expect the flames to flicker up, but you’ll never know when. just like his exile. he knew he had a chance of being kicked out of l’manburg, but he didn’t know if tubbo would ever have the guts to do that sort of thing. especially to his best friend. spoiler alert, he did have the guts and now tommy is here. blankly staring at the lava that’s only a couple thousand feet below him, pressuring him to jump in. telling him that erasing his existence and losing his last life will all be worth it in the end. no one would care anyways. would they?

he shakes his head and snarls at the fires below him. he’s not weak. he knows not to give in to temptation. so he doesn’t. the lava calls out to him. it’s desperate for company just like he is. he sighs and continues to stare at it. it’s dangerously beautiful. the oranges and yellows mix in perfectly. it’s a hazardous and breathtaking painting. he doesn’t even notice, but he leans forward trying to get a closer look. something pulls him back immediately after. the movement is quick and unexpected. he shuts his eyes in fear. he coughs as he slowly opens them. 

“tommy what the hell?” an american voice calls out to him. tommy looks up from the floor. it’s dream. oh boy. he scrambles to his feet and struggles to stand up. “shit, sorry man.” he says, shakily. dream smacks the back of his head. “ow! what the fuck?” he rubs the back of his head, glaring at the man in green. “has anyone told you how much of and asshole you are?” the boy growls. “oh, so i’m an asshole for preventing a teenage boy from killing himself?” the older shouts. tommy cowers and shrinks back to the floor. dream notices his reaction and sits down on the bridge with him. 

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to yell at you.” the masked man sighs. it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling with that thing on. tommy slowly, and cautiously, sits up. there’s something off about dream. he seems oddly calm about this. “you’re super fuckin’ sus right now y’know that?” he comments. he goes back to staring at the lava. “i know,” he relaxes a bit “comforting the kid you forced into exile doesn’t exactly paint me a good picture either.” tommy hums in agreement. he can feel dream’s eyes burn into the back of his skull. 

“why are you here anyways? i thought you would be back home hanging out with your friends celebrating my exile.” he scoffs. “about that-” tommy cuts dream off with a stare. he knows that he doesn’t want to get into it. dream sighs, “yeah it’s not going too well.” the british boy nods. he understands. he never thought he’d say that, but then again there’s a lot of things he didn’t think were possible. it’s quiet. for a once, a moment between them is quiet. it’s nice actually. the lava bubbling below them along with the quiet sounds of other nether mobs in the distance. it’s peaceful.

“i know what you’re thinking.” dream finally speaks. tommy looks at him puzzled. “it’s not your time to die yet, tommy.” the green man says. the phrase pierces right through tommy’s heart. everything flashes before him. fighting dream with sapnap, eret’s betrayal, the duel with dream, l’manburg’s freedom, the election, running to pogtopia, the festival, the second war, wilbur getting slaughtered, withers, lanterns, fire, and tubbo. he can feel a bronze “1” hovering above his head. a counter of how many lives he has left. a constant reminder of how thin the line he’s walking on is. one small misstep and he could lose it all. whether that step is willing or not, he doesn’t care. he’s seen what death can do, and treats it like an old friend. a risky, yet familiar, old friend. 

“it’s never my time.” he huffs. dream is taken aback by this statement. he knows what it’s like. he knows that no matter how many people you love and care about die around you, you have to move on whether you like it or not. he’s seen death. he’s danced with it. he knows its face and he knows how it works. it doesn’t have a wheel of fate or a coin to flip, it has its own mindset and a list with a shit ton of names of people you love.

he can feel a golden “3” hover above his shoulders. he knows he’s lucky. he’s been spared. with every event that’s happened in his own land, he’s survived. it mocks him. it whispers about how everyone he loves will die and leave him alone. his 3 lives will be with him forever. he can’t die. he won’t die. fate has it in for him and he’s lucky as hell. so why does he feel like complete shit? it’s almost like he’s cheating death. 

“it’s never my time either.” the older sighs. 


	5. tfw you duel the guy you’ve idolized since your teen years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream keeps his life secret. however, a $100,000 duel changes it all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is *very* self indulgent and pretty much just me self projecting

**pov: third person**

**character(s): dream, badboyhalo, technoblade**

**warning(s): unsafe binding**

**au: transmasc dream (i’m so sorry-)**

“$100,000?” dream shouts. bad nods. dream has been living with bad for a while after running away from home. he was the only friend that knew about his personal life and the only one he trusted with that information. 

“god that’s enough for-” “a couple of new binders? a testosterone refill or two?” bad cut him off, smiling. “yeah, that’s exactly what i was going for.” dream’s eyes widen. “if i win this and get the $100,000 i’m pretty much set!” he leans back in his chair. “technoblade is a pretty good fighter, but i’m sure you can beat him.” bad smirks. dream’s jaw drops. 

“you’re fucking kidding. you’re joking with me right?” “first of all, language. second, nope! technoblade is going to be fighting for that $100,000 too. i made a couple of connections and got you to fight him.” “but it’s technoblade! the guy i looked up to for years in my teenage life! i cant beat him! especially with the condition my body is in.” dream sighs. “well we’ll just have to wait and see.” bad collects the bowls and plates from the table and places them in the sink.

“you have a week to prepare.” bad shouts from the kitchen.

dream’s paranoid to say the least. will people notice the way his body is? sure, he hasn’t been binding cause of how little money he has, but he doesn’t think it’s that noticeable. _but what if it is?_ bad knocks on the door to his bedroom, ultimately startling him. 

“you can come in bad.” dream calls. “stop worrying you muffin! i can hear your thoughts from downstairs. if you want to back out now i can still take you out of the duel.” bad sits down beside dream on his bed. “it’s okay. you must’ve went through a lot to get me there anyways. i’m just being a pissbaby about it. no one’s even going to notice right? i’m overthinking this.” “dream it’s fine. you can always back out. if you don’t want to duel it doesn’t make you less of a man.” bad gently places a hand on his shoulder. dream stiffens. 

“how do you always manage know what i’m thinking?” the blonde mutters, suppressing his tears. 

bad is surprisingly good at fighting with a sword. dream is surprisingly good at fleeing attacks and thinking of a solution quick. they’ve been training every day for a week but that doesn’t mean dream thinks he has the higher ground. a couple days before the duel, they train two more times. bad critiques small the mistakes dream makes and corrects his stance. he gives him some advice before dream collapses on his bed. 

“i’m not ready bad.” he shuts his eyes. “you have for more days to rest. you’ll do great, i know it. you’ve improved since we first started training.” the older smiles. “i don’t think that’ll be enough to stop techno though.” he sighs and puts his hands over his face. “whether it’s enough or not, you’ll at least get to say that you fought the blade in a duel.” bad tries to cheer him up. it works a bit. “i guess so.” he shivers.

bad pulls the blanket over him, “sleep. you deserve it.”

“welcome all to the 100k duel!” a voice over the intercom shouts. the crowd cheers. dream can see bad smiling at him in the crowd. the arena feels more like a coliseum if anything. he feels like an animal being thrown into the ring. a lion versus a wild boar.

“this won’t end well.” he says under his breath. his chest tightens. he can barely breathe. the bandages are too tight. “fuck it.” he says as his grip tightens on the axe in his hand. 

techno emerges from the other side of the arena. dream can see his pig mask slowly come in to view. he was incredibly tall in person, dream notes. dream looks down at himself. he’s as thin as a stick and isn’t as built as the latter is. his feminine features are hidden strategically by a baggy lime green hoodie. he’s fragile and he knows it. however, he is quicker than most assume and is just as quick at thinking of solutions. 

this should be interesting.

his axe clangs against techno’s sword. _last match already?_ the score board mocks him. it’s 5 to 4. if techno wins this round, he gets the $100,000. dream can’t have that. he can’t lose his chances. the tight bandages are slowly starting to catch up to him. he can’t breathe. he feels winded. his chest tightens. it hurts, but he tries to carry on.

he slips up. he can feel a sword being pressed against his neck. the score board shifts from 5 - 4 to 6 - 4. dream sighs in defeat. techno extends his hand out and helps dream stand up. the younger dusts himself off. the crowd is shouting. there’s a mix of cheers and disappointment, but dream can only hear his heavy breathing. it’s over. he can go home. 

“you okay? you’ve been looking out of breath this whole duel.” techno asks. his voice is _way_ deeper in person too. a twinge of jealousy stings him. “i’m fine. i just need to talk to bad for a bit.” he heaves. him and techno walk out of the arena and meet up with bad. 

“why’d you tighten your bandages you muffinhead?” bad runs up to dream. “i-i don’t know.” dream stutters. “you know it’s not healthy! i told you not to do it, you’re not proving anything to anyone. you’re just making it worse for yourself. i was watching and i could tell you couldn’t breathe.” bad rambles. dream coughs. his lungs hurt. “go loosen your bandages now. i don’t want you struggling to breathe.” bad guides him to the bathroom. 

“bandages?” techno asks. “i told you about this already didn’t i?” bad sighs. techno gives a soft hum in response. “i didn’t think he would have time to tighten them. they didn’t even give you guys that much time to prepare!” dream walks out of the bathroom looking a little more content now that he can breathe. 

“are you okay? do you feel like you can breathe now?” bad asks. dream nods. “i fucking failed. i lost my chances of getting new binders and testosterone pills.” dream collapses onto bad. “dream, it’s fine. i was going to split the money with you anyways.” techno says, breaking the tension. “you what?” dream moves away from bad. “i knew about your situation and decided that i would split it with you. figured you needed the money more than i do.” techno shrugs. 

“you’re splitting the money?” bad asks, tilting his head. techno nods. “oh my god.” dream covers his mouth. “thank you. holy shit. thank you so much.” dream’s close to tears. bad smiles at the taller man, “thank you technoblade.” “it’s nothing really. you did a surprisingly good job keeping up.” techno compliments. “well, he learned from the best.” bad comments, looking at techno. techno’s eyes widen behind his mask. 

“really?” he asks. dream nods. “i feel kinda honored really.” he admits. dream chuckles, “well it was nice meeting you in person.” “yeah. bad’s told me a lot about you. glad i could finally meet you in person too.” he smiles. 

bad and dream wave him goodbye and make their way to bad’s car. “you set that whole ordeal up didn’t you?” dream asks. “if by ordeal you mean everything excluding your loss and techno splitting the money, then yes. i did set it up.” bad smirks. “are you serious?” dream groans. bad chuckles, “i know you’ve wanted to meet him for a while so i helped set it up. you’re lucky i’m friends with the guy.” “you’re friends with him?” dream shouts as he shrinks down in the passenger’s seat. “how much about you do i not know about?” dream sighs. “a lot really.” bad smirks. he continues to drive as dream slowly shuts his eyes and sleeps. 


	6. just call them brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> twins separated by divorce and reunited by a castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on the song “servant of evil”

**pov: third person**

**character(s): wilbur, technoblade, dream, george, sapnap**

**warning(s): murder, blood**

**au: song fic**

wilbur doesn’t remember a lot about his childhood. he does, however, remember kicking and screaming. his dad, philza, pulled him away from his brother, techno, leaving the latter with their mother. he hasn’t seen techno since. 

now 19 years old, he stays by techno’s side as a servant. though techno is a bit malicious in his ways of ruling, he has a heart of gold nonetheless. he knows he does. 

“you can go, no one’s stopping you.” techno says from the throne. wilbur whips his head around to face his brother. “really?” he asks, a smile tugging his lips. “yeah. go explore the town and what not. just be sure to come back before the curfew.” techno waves his hand, dismissing his older brother but keeping the smile on his face. wilbur thanks him before fleeing the castle. 

the town smells of freshly baked bread. it’s a bittersweet smell for wilbur, considering he worked at a bakery with an old friend named niki to raise money for himself. she was kind a really great boss. he smiles as he reminisces about his younger days. 

he bumps into someone while rummaging through his thoughts. 

“shit! sorry.” a blonde boy with a mask scrambles to his feet and helps wilbur up. the latter dusts himself off, “it’s fine really. i should’ve been paying attention.”“the same could be said for me.” the blonde sighs. wilbur dismisses this. 

“uh, do you want to hang out around town for a bit? it’s the least i can do after bumping into you.” wilbur awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. he mentally face palms. “sure. i don’t mind making a new friend.” the blonde shrugs. friend huh.

the two go around talking about their lives. he learns that the boy’s name is dream and that he lives with his four other friends on the west end of the kingdom. wilbur doesn’t bring up that he’s related to technoblade, but dream doesn’t seem to notice when he blanks out and tries to remove techno from the story. 

“dream!” wilbur hears a british voice call. he looks up and sees a shorter boy running up to them. “hey george!” dream waves. george walks up to them, goggles perched on the top of his head. wilbur shakes his hand, “hello, i’m wilbur.” george nods. “well we’ll be on our way now. bad thought he got lost.” george sighs. wilbur chuckles. “bye wilbur! it was nice meeting you.” dream smiles and waves goodbye as george drags him away. wilbur waves back and makes his way to the castle. 

“dream huh? i’ve heard about him.” techno hums. “yeah. we had fun talking before his friend had to drag him away.” techno nods as he swishes the glass of wine in his hand. wilbur sets down his own glass of wine on the table. “sounds like you had fun today.” techno comments, trying to make small talk. “it was nice to take a break for today.” wilbur takes another sip of his wine, and gently sets it back down. 

wilbur looks at his younger brother. he wants to talk about something. he knows something wilbur doesn’t. 

“if you want to say something you can. you don’t have to hide it. we are brothers after all.” wilbur brings up, a teasing smirk painted on his face. technoblade sighs, “george is the king of a neighboring kingdom on the far west end.” wilbur’s smirk drops. no wonder. “he’s done a lot to hurt me in the years that you’ve been gone.” “oh” is all he can say. silence plagues the room. there’s something else on techno’s mind. it’s not a request, it’s a command. 

wilbur is given a dagger. it looks like it was sharpened recently. 

“i want you to kill george.” technoblade huffs. wilbur’s eyes widen as he takes a step back, “what?” “i want you to kill the bastard.” his brother snarls. he can see the beast take over technoblade. he can almost hear the voices techno hears. “i-” wilbur’s figure quivers. he doesn’t want to kill the person dream has been friends with for years. he can feel his younger brother’s eyes burn into his soul. he can’t deny this quest. he’d be hurting him. he takes a shaky breath before responding. 

“i’ll do it.” techno smirks and sends him on his way. “if he’s evil, then i’m evil too. we are brothers after all.” wilbur mumbles to himself as he walks towards the western fountain. 

when he arrives, he sees george sitting on the fountain’s edge. 

“oh, hello wilbur.” he greets. wilbur waves in response. “what brings you here? and so late too. it’s the kingdom’s curfew.” he asks. “just going out for a walk. you?” “i’m thinking about stuff.” george hums. “oh. alright then.” wilbur shuffles to the fountain awkwardly. 

he can’t do it. he can’t kill george. even if george hurt techno in the past, it’s in the past isn’t it? he doesn’t want to kill dream’s friend. it would hurt him. _but it would hurt techno even more if you didn’t._

“i can see the dagger wilbur. you’re not very good at hiding things.” george doesn’t look at him. he’s still looking up at the night sky. wilbur stays quiet. “technoblade set you up for this didn’t help?” george asks. wilbur doesn’t move. he wouldn’t tell george about it no matter how much he pried. “it’s okay if he did. i don’t deserve it, but if you’re getting your head chopped off if you’re unsuccessful than do it. i wouldn’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me.” george sighs. he’s surprisingly calm about this. guilt eats away at wilbur’s heart. he has to do this. 

he quickly plunges the dagger in george’s abdomen. blood stains the blade and his clothes. george’s body goes limp in his arms. he’s loosing blood fast. wilbur removes the dagger from the latter as more blood spills onto his clothing. george gives him a sad smile before his eyes are shut forever. wilbur can’t help but let out a few tears. he hears footsteps and puts the cover back over the dagger before running between the trees. 

“i feel sick.” wilbur says, giving the dagger back to his brother. he’s in a different set of clothes. “at least he’s been taken care of.” techno tries to reassure him. “i guess so. thanks technoblade.” he smiles.

there’s a crowd outside techno’s kingdom. a riot made up of thousands of townspeople surround the castle. (dream and sapnap leading the crowd.) techno looks over the thousands of people and sighs. it’s finally his time. wilbur taps his shoulder. the younger turns around to face him. 

“here, put on my beanie and coat. if you run now they won’t notice you’ve left.” wilbur gives him a smile. techno’s body is shaking. “wilbur no. i won’t let this happen. i’ll think of something i swear. we’ll both make it out alive.” he says, trying to stay strong. wilbur gently places his hands on his shoulder, “it’s okay technoblade. we’re twins. no one will notice. either one of us makes it out alive or none of us do.” techno exhales a shaky breath.

“thank you, but please try and live through this.” “i can’t guarantee i will.” “don’t say that!” “in another life, maybe we’ll live long enough to see the light of day. but for now you’re the fugitive and i’m the king. run away. run as far as you can from here. get out of the kingdom and live a new life for me.” techno sobs quietly into wilbur’s shoulder. he quickly hugs him before taking his clothes and fleeing.

wilbur puts on the red cloak and golden crown. he’s not afraid to face the crowd of people. he’s only afraid of techno’s fate after all this. a boy in a bandana busts open the castle doors and points a sword at him. 

“king technoblade, your tyranny comes to an end now.” his stance is strong, but his voice is weak. “we’ll see about that.” wilbur smirks. 

wilbur sits at the bottom of the castle. he’s never been to the cellars before, but they’re surprisingly clean though it may be because of the lack of inmates in recent years (thanks to wilbur holding techno back). 

“your execution is in ten minutes. you better look pretty for you last audience.” sapnap snarls. wilbur nods before he slams the cellar door shut. he sighs and looks through the bars above the wall, sunlight emanating through it. he wonders how far techno’s gone or if he even ran away at all.

ten minutes went by quicker than wilbur had thought. sapnap came back to retrieve him and put him on display in front of thousands of other people. the king would be beheaded in front of everyone. well, the person they thought was the king. 

sapnap stands in front of the sea of townspeople. the “king” had finally been caught, his head now in a guillotine. 

“today is a very special day for us all. today we will behead the king. as his head falls to the ground, we shall celebrate the end of a long rein of tyranny. he’s stolen the life of an innocent man. a man who just so happens to rein a kingdom on the western end,” wilbur glances over to dream as sapnap gives his speech. dream noticeably stiffens when sapnap mentions george. wilbur feels even more guilt. he knows he killed george. he knows it’s his own fault. seeing dream like this breaks him despite knowing him for less than a mere day. his head hangs low in the guillotine as sapnap continues to speak. 

“you promised you’d stay alive.” he hears a monotone voice whisper to him. he looks up. technoblade came to the execution. he puts on a smile in an attempt to reassure him. “i knew that i was going to get executed anyway, there was no point in trying to escape.” technoblade’s hair is covered with his beanie. the younger pushes his glasses up. he looks the same as he did 13 years ago. “it’ll be okay. i may not be here with you in this life, but maybe in a new life i will. you’re a good brother technoblade. never doubt that for a second.” technoblade forces a smile on his face, “you are too wilbur. i’m sorry i didn’t do anything about this. i’m such a shit king.” “you’re free now techno. you can do what you want. after this is over you can live a new life. don’t forget me, but please don’t mourn over my death. i want you to be happy.” “i could never forget about you.” tears fall from techno’s eyes as sapnap raises his hand, signaling for the large blade at the top to be set off.

dream pulls the rope with as much force as he can. a loud _clang_ can be heard as the sound of church bells ring in the distance. technoblade looks down at the floor, not daring to look at his own brother’s head. tears cloud his vision as he runs from the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to anyone to hates me for making this, be grateful that i made it wilbur and techno instead of tommy and tubbo


	7. between brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> techno can either aid his older brother in blowing up the nation he once built, or he can aid his younger brother in starting a revolution to take back the nation he was once a part of. the curse of being both indecisive and the middle child plagues him.

**pov: third person**

**character(s): techno, wilbur, tommy**

**warning(s): none**

**au: none (takes place in smp canon)**

techno doesn’t know what to do. one minute he’s casually talking to wilbur, and the next he’s suddenly being cast into an offer that’s honestly hard to pass up. chaos is his hobby and wilbur was willing to give that to him. it would cost him nothing as well. it would be fun, sure, but he didn’t know if he should trust the ramblings of his mentally deranged older brother. 

“come one techno, just trust me on this. we have them think that they have the higher ground and then, when they least expect it, we blow that motherfucker to smithereens! it’ll be great!” wilbur’s eyes widen as he speaks. his hand movements grow more rapid and exaggerated as he speaks. techno slowly nods when his brother looks to him for an answer.

“see? it won’t turn out that bad! just trust your older brother on this one will ya?” there’s a glint of insanity in his eyes. he’s far beyond the wilbur that techno would spar and laugh with as a kid. it was too late for techno, or even philza, to fix him. he was already far gone the day that techno arrived at the smp. 

“are you alright? you’re being unresponsive which means you’re overthinking something.” wilbur tilts his head to the left. his curly hair follows the motion after. “i don’t know about this if i’m being honest.” techno sighs. he notices the shift in wilbur’s face and quickly continues to speak. “i’m not saying that it’s a bad idea. i’m just saying that maybe this isn’t the right way to take back l’manburg.” he tries to reassure wilbur and get back on his side. 

it seems to work as wilbur recoils and eases up. techno lets out a shaky breath.

“i guess you’re right. but that doesn’t mean that i can’t take back my nation without a fight. the people of manburg will pay, explosion or not.” wilbur slams a fist on the table. techno attempts not to jump at this and pretends to seem unfazed.

he’d forgotten how scary wilbur was when he was determined to do something. he would completely shut everyone out and only focus on his goal and what he wanted. if it hurt others, he didn’t notice. not like other people showed signs of hurt anyways. 

“wilbur, please think about this logically. i’m all for chaos and destruction, but you can’t just blow up your own nation! that thing is tied to fundy. he was born and raised there. you can’t just take that away from him.” he tries to reason with his brother. as much fun as it’d be to watch bits of dirt and dust fly in the air after setting off a couple thousand stacks of tnt, he had to be reasonable with wilbur and at least get _some_ of his sanity back. 

wilbur sighs, “there’s nothing we can do about fundy. i’ve already recruited him and he’s ready to do what it takes to get back l’manburg. as much as it pains me to risk him getting hurt, it’s good to know he at least has my back on just this one thing.” his brother is clearly stressed and aggravated. he gets up from his seat and is almost out of the room before techno speaks up. “but what about tommy? have you ever considered how he feels about this?” that seems to make wilbur reconsider as he stiffens in response. 

“tommy is fine with anything. as long as we get l’manburg back, he’s willing to die for the sake of saving our nation.” wilbur elaborates. “wil, that’s not right. he’s only 16. he shouldn’t be thinking like that.” “well you’re too late now aren’t you? you missed out on that part of his life when he changed and grew up. he’s not just a kid anymore techno. he’s matured into a fine warrior now.” wilbur’s eyes narrow.

“are you even hearing yourself? you’re treating your own brother, let alone your _youngest_ brother, like a soldier instead of family. this isn’t okay.” techno stands up, now level with wilbur. “you’re one to talk. you started causing mayhem around his age too.” he snarls. techno, in a fit of rage, walks out of the room and slams the door shut leaving wilbur alone. 

he sighs as he’s met with the fresh air of the rest of the pogtopia ravine. he climbs up the stairs and exits out the dirt mound. he sees tommy sitting on a tree overlooking manburg. his posture is just as bad as he remembers. he stifles a laugh but it clearly doesn’t work since tommy looks down at him from the tree. 

“what’re you doing here blade?” the younger asks. “wil and i got into a bit of a fight.” he replies, climbing the tree. “yeah, it’s much more likely for people to have arguments with him than civil conversations nowadays.” the blonde shrugs. techno huffs as he sits on top of a branch adjacent to tommy. 

“hey, uh, i know it’s kinda odd for me to ask favors of you-” “not really, but go on i guess” he shrugs. tommy’s eyes narrow, “you’re on thin fucking ice buddy.” techno chuckles, “alright nerd, what’s the favor?” tommy’s face straightens.

“well, i want to lead a revolution. now i know that it sounds crazy but just trust me okay. i’ve been in a war already, i know my rounds. i just want to get l’manburg back and i can’t do it alone. we obviously have allies, but i need to know if you’re one of them too.” tommy finishes with a deep breath. “revolution isn’t really my thing tommy, you know that.” techno’s eyes widen. “i know! i just want to know if you’re at least willing to help. if you’re not, then i completely understand. just please don’t betray me and join manburg’s side.” he pleads. 

he can’t promise tommy that he’ll help and be a part of his revolution, but he also can’t guarantee that he’ll side with wilbur in destroying l’manburg. it’s hard being so damn indecisive, but wouldn’t you be too if you had to choose between brothers? a sigh escapes his lips before he answers tommy. 

“i’ll see what i can do.” 


	8. i still wanna be your favorite boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fundy can’t hide who he is anymore and wilbur has to help the best he can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do refer to fundy by he/him throughout the story, but just know that (until he’s out to wilbur) everyone calls him she/her

**pov: third person**

**character(s): fundy, wilbur**

**warning(s): description of a mental breakdown, _really_ bad gender dysphoria (he throws up), mentions of anorexia and bulimia **

**au: none (takes place in smp cannon)**

fundy looked in the mirror. god he hated those things. those retched panes made of reflective glass that helped make you see yourself. but fundy couldn’t see a damn thing. he could only see his shell. the perception of what people saw him as, and what people wanted him to be. he thought of his father and grimaced. he didn’t want to have to bring this up to him. 

his hands moved up to his shoulders as he felt his long ginger hair. his fingers barley touched it before he cringed. he hated it. he hated the way it dragged everywhere and how people always asked to style it for him. he didn’t like it at all. it made him uncomfortable. he knew men could have long hair, uncle techno did for sure. he just didn’t want it. he didn’t want the reminders. he let go of his hair and continued to stare at himself. 

his chest. not that dastardly thing. he fucking hated that too. he hated everything about himself. he hated taking showers and the way he felt the need to throw up as soon as he took off his shirt. he hated how uncomfortable it made him feel. he hated how he felt like people were staring at him because of it. he hated how it made it impossible to lie down on his stomach. he gaged. _fuck_.

he could feel the acid build up in his throat. he didn’t want to puke. sometimes the dysphoria was too much and he felt the need to just release it. the sickness immediately after wasn’t worth it at all though. he’s gotten caught throwing up by wilbur before. it was an awkward conversation.

at first, wilbur thought he was anorexic or bulimic. fundy, too scared to tell him the truth, let his dad try everything he could to make him feel better. he went to therapy for a couple of years. it didn’t work out that great. the therapist was helpful, but he felt even more lost if anything. they prescribed him some medication. it didn’t help much either. eventually, wilbur started to notice fundy not exemplifying any of those traits so he asked fundy if it was okay to stop the medication and therapy. fundy agreed, so they did. 

he was grateful to have a father like wilbur. he always asked fundy for his opinion before doing anything.

he grips the photos in his hand. the memories of his mother who left them and when wilbur was proud of him. it stings. his mother probably knew that he would turn out this way and left when she could. wilbur would be devastated if he found out. he’d want to know what happened to his _little girl._ he felt sick and lightheaded. he didn’t want to think about this anymore, but his head pushed on. 

it pointed out his flaws. it whispered hurtful things to him. it threatened him. it told him something bad would happen if he told wilbur. acid rises in his throat but the thoughts don’t stop. he throws up. his throat burns. it hurts. his chest hurts. his whole body is in pain. he flushes his vomit down the toilet and washes his face. 

“fundy, are you okay?” _shit._ wilbur knocks on the bathroom door. “i’m fine dad you scared me.” it isn’t a complete lie. “that implies that you’re doing something. i know something’s been going on and i’ve been too scared to ask. please tell me what’s happening fundy, i don’t want you to be hurting yourself without me knowing.” his voice brings a sense of security through the door.

fundy thinks about his options. he can lie again and continue to feel dysphoric, or tell wilbur everything and get it over with and risk getting thrown out. both options seem like complete and utter shit. he sighs. 

“dad, i need to tell you something.” he starts. “we’ll get out of the bathroom then cause i don’t want to be having a serious conversation with my daughter through the bathroom door.” wilbur comments. fundy chuckles. he twists the doorknob and opens the door. his father stands in front of him. he turns off the bathroom light as wilbur moves to the side so he can leave. 

“so, what’d you want to tell me.” wilbur sits on the couch. fundy takes a seat beside him. “before i tell you, can you promise me that you’ll be supportive about it?” he asks. wilbur eagerly nods, “of course i will! if you’re happy, then i’m happy too. i’ll always support you no matter what happens.” fundy smiles but fear still eats away at him. 

“i’m, uh, well i’m transgender. i don’t want to be a girl anymore, and i’m sorry if that disappoints you.” fundy stutters trying to get the words out. wilbur sits there and listens contently. “how long have you been feeling like this?” he gently places a hand on his leg. “probably two years.” he mumbles. “two years? fundy why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve helped a lot sooner!” wilbur stands up immediately. fundy refrains from shaking. “i’m sorry i-i didn’t think that you would help and i didn’t know what to do. i had no one to tell and-” wilbur notices fundy slowly starting to get worked up and he sits back down. 

“sorry honey, i didn’t mean it like that. i know it’s hard to tell me things and i know i haven’t been at home in recent years, but still you should’ve said something about it. i’m not mad at you though, i support you unconditionally.” he gives his son a soft smile. fundy pulls his dad into a hug, “thanks dad.” “no problem son.” wilbur replies, loud enough for fundy to hear. the fox hybrid picks up on it and he smiles. 

“so are you keeping the name fundy or are you changing it?” wilbur asks. they’re sitting at the kitchen table and discussing the changes fundy wants to go through while wil makes dinner. “i’m keeping it. it’s gender neutral and it’ll be easier for people to avoid deadnaming me.” he replies. “smart.” wilbur comments. “i’ll go out and change some stuff tomorrow. you can come with me if you want.” “i’ll go too. i want to witness this moment as much as you do.” 

fundy walks out of the courthouse with a smile as wilbur walks out with a document that legally changed fundy’s gender. 

“i’ve already ordered some testosterone for you and it should be ready by five o’clock. the binders should be here sometime next week. if they don’t fit, tell me. okay?” wilbur hands fundy the document before he drives off. “sure will dad.” fundy’s eyes tear up as he reads over the document. “i’m so proud of you, son.” wilbur smiles. “thanks dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trans fundy pog? trans fundy pog. i just wanted to be self indulgent leave me alone-


	9. just for tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream isn’t homeless, he just needs a place to stay just for the night. techno doesn’t complain though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they’re best friends your honor, and i don’t give a shit if it doesn’t fit with smp canon. i live to *spite* it

**pov: third person**

**character(s): dream, technoblade, tommy**

**warning(s): lots of self hatred, attempted suicide**

**au: none (takes place in smp cannon)**

dream isn’t homeless. 

he walks up to techno’s house and knocks on the front door. the pig hybrid opens it and towers over him. 

“wow look who’s back. are you here to show me your house that you built in 20 minutes or?” techno jokes with a smirk on his face. dream sighs. 

“look, i need a place to stay for right now. george and sapnap kind of, if not really, hate me and i’m not allowed to go back there.” dream explains. “you can joke about it all you want, but please let me stay over. i don’t have anywhere else i can stay and i’m not spending another night out in the snow.” he anxiously tugs on his fingerless gloves. 

techno stiffens hearing those final words. he didn’t expect dream to admit defeat, yet alone like _that_. he considers his options. tommy’s out of the house, and he would be for a couple of days. no one ever really comes to visit him, so the chances of someone finding dream are highly unlikely. 

“gods if you told me that i would’ve let you stay a lot earlier.” he huffs letting dream inside. 

his house is a lot warmer than the green man remembers. it probably doesn’t help that he’s been sleeping outside in the cold for _weeks_. he shivers instinctively. 

“you’re sick.” techno comments as he walks past the masked man. 

“in the head? cause i’m sure we’ve already had that conversation-”

”that’s not what i meant nerd. you caught a cold.” techno puts his cape on dream’s shoulders. dream wraps himself with it. it’s heavy, but it’s long enough to cover his lean form and warm him up. 

“oh.” dream replies rather calmly. his throat already feels sore. 

“it’s what you get for sleeping in the snow.” the taller retorts from the kitchen. 

techno turns on the stove and lets the water in the tea kettle boil. dream doesn't attempt to argue back. he knows he's right. techno comes back to the living room and takes a seat next to dream. 

"mind explaining why you're out of the group?" he asks. the younger stares into the fireplace and sighs. 

"i got into an argument with them a couple weeks ago. i dethroned george because i didn't want him becoming a target for tommy's plans to get back at me. i did a shit job at giving my reasoning though and he, understandably, got pretty pissed. sapnap joined in too. he kept talking about how i didn't care about them. hell, he almost convinced me that i had actually said those things about them. i felt horrible. i couldn't say anything that would change their mind, so i didn't. it would've been better if i just told them my reasoning, but _no_. i just had to keep my omnipotent facade up. so here we are." he huffs, pulling the cape closer to his body. techno stays silent, taking in the new information. dream notices and starts to apologize. "shit was that too much? sorry. i should've just kept my mouth shut. i shouldn't have even come here. i knew it was a bad idea. i'm not supposed to be vulnerable." he drops the cape to the floor as he stands up. he's grateful his mask is covering the tears that spill from his eyes. 

the pinkette pulls him down again. 

"ow! what the fuck techno?" 

"you might be my rival, but i'm not an asshole alright? now, you're staying here until i see improvement." he elaborates.

dream sighs and wraps himself with the cape once more, too weak to protest or leave. techno gets up to go check on the boiling water. he looks above the fireplace and at the mantle. a sword is placed neatly on it. he quietly grabs it and quickly removes the sheath. he inspects the blade. it looks like it's been sharpened recently. he can see the mask clearly in the sword's blade. he takes a deep breath before promptly moving the blade towards his stomach. his movement is shaky, his grip on the sword is lose with how weak his body is. the blade is sharp. it presses up against his stomach immediately, ripping the fabric from his thin hoodie and t-shirt to reach it. he breathes heavily before pushing the sword further. the cold metal pushes his skin, breaking it as small droplets of blood fall to the floor. he glides it across, breaking more skin as he goes along. techno gets back just in time from the kitchen.

"dream what the hell?" he knocks the sword out of dream's hands. the shorter convulses and leans onto him, sobs wracking his body. the pink haired man notices the blood and springs up to get his potions. he grabs a healing potion before returning back to the living room. dream lays on the floor, shaking and sobbing quietly. he moves the mask up enough to see his mouth. he twists the cap off one of the potions and brings it to dream's lips. the blonde moves his head to the side. "dream." he warns.

"just let me die! you're only keeping me alive so that you can use me as leverage! no one wants me. why do you think they left?" he shouts at him. tears pour down the sides of his face and fall towards his cheeks. techno can see the droplets of water that slipped to the bottom half of his face. "let me bleed out, it'll be less painful." he hiccups. 

"don't act like you're just going to respawn after this. i know you're on your last life." techno pushes the bottle towards his lips again. "drink it." 

"why should i? there's no point in living if i'm just going to keep fucking up everything for myself." he chucks his mask to the floor, angry and devastated all at once. "the least you could do is give me a painless release to the next life." he looks up at the man in the pig mask. 

"nothing you say will stop me from trying to heal you. drink it now. you have no choice. you may own the smp, but you're under my roof right now." he continues to force dream to drink the damn potion. the blonde sighs and drinks the pink-like liquid. the large cut on his stomach slowly turns into a faint scar. he shudders as he finishes the potion and leaves an empty glass bottle. 

"i hate you." he says against the floor. 

"yeah, yeah, just focus on getting better. i don't want you being sick when you go after my brother." techno jokes, putting the glass bottle in his inventory. dream laughs weakly. he eventually closes his eyes and falls asleep. techno sighs and moves the maskless man to the couch. he drapes his cape over him as a blanket before he goes to his room. 

a couple days pass by, and dream is starting to feel better. his coughs were basically gone, and the tea techno has been making for him has been clearing his throat. headaches were still prominent though. the two are sitting at the kitchen table just talking about themselves. techno tells some childhood stories about tommy and wilbur whilst dream listens, not wanting to go too deep into his memories of george and sapnap. tehcnoblade understands. it goes on like this for a while. techno telling a story, dream laughing at whatever stupid event occurred, occasionally commentating. it's nothing extravagant, but it's enough for dream to be comfortable. 

"it's nice not having to stare at a smiling mask whenever i talk to you now." techno says, drinking his coffee. 

"yeah, it's nice not constantly wearing it. i can see a little better." dream chuckles. 

a knock startles the two. dream runs upstairs. he rushes towards the open window in techno's room, jumping out of it. he thanks the manhunts for his agility. he lands perfectly on his feet and flees from techno's estate. the cold air rushes to his face. he smiles. for the first time in what feels like weeks, he feels genuine happiness. despite knowing he'd have to go back and get his mask eventually, he feels free from it. the feeling is exhilarating. his adrenaline rises as he rushes through the forest, smiling as the view of techno's house gets smaller and smaller.

"back already?" techno asks the teenager as he steps inside. tommy closes the door behind him and flops down on the couch.

"yep. it went by quicker with me and ghostbur helping him." he replies with a yawn. 

"when's phil coming back?" 

"in a bit. tonight the latest." tommy shrugs. he looks over at his older brother. he's holding a porcelain mask. "was dream here?" he asks him. techno nods. "what'd he want anyways?" he groans. 

techno looks down at the porcelain mask. its iconic smiley face stares back at him. it brings him back to the night he saved dream. the thought that dream would've died if he didn't get there quick enough sits at the back of his mind. why did he even save him? he's supposed to be protecting tommy, yet he ended up saving dream instead. why? _because dream would've done the same._

"nothing." he replies, brushing his fingers against the strap of the mask.


	10. “it’s just me again” “i’m sorry”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tubbo thought the way that he deals with grief is unconventional. sam? well, he could use some work in that department.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sam’s point of view is in bold

**pov: third person**

**characters: tubbo, sam, dream (briefly), tommy (briefly)**

**warnings: mention of a corpse (no details)**

**au: none (takes place in smp canon)**

tubbo kicks the rocks in front of him as he walks by tommy’s house. the thing is surrounded with flowers from friends and family alike. he sighs and places down his fair share too. he grabs a beehive and a bee’s nest from his inventory and places them around tommy’s house in hopes that some bees arrive and surround the place. he gently pats the beehive and walks away from the mound of dirt that tommy was once able to call home. 

news spread of tommy’s death the moment it happened. _tommyinnit was slain by dream_ was messaged to everyone on the smp. worry snuck its way to people’s heads as the message appeared. tubbo refused to believe it. sam was with them. it was just a server glitch right? 

sam came rushing to tubbo and ranboo after the event. 

**he saw his corpse on the floor of the prison. panic spread through sam’s whole body. he looked up at the other blonde in the room. dream sat there, casually writing in his book, legs crossed. he looked relaxed despite the literal dead body on the floor of his cell.**

**“dream,” he called out to the man. “explain yourself. _now.”_**

**dream groaned and slid off of the chest he was sitting on.**

**“what’s there to explain?” dream chuckled. “theseus walked a little too close to the edge of the cliff, so i decided to give him the push he needed.”**

**sam stepped back. he ignored dream’s shouts to let him out of the prison, to stay in the cell a little longer. sam ignored him and gently picked up the teen’s body.**

**“i’m so sorry tommy, i wish i could’ve been here sooner.” he whispered to the boy who’s eyes will stay forever closed.**

tubbo didn’t know how to feel about the situation if he was being honest. he was in denial for so long that he felt basically nothing when it was proven that his best friend had died in a prison cell with his manipulator. he consulted ranboo about this. the hybrid had told him that it was okay not to feel anything. he understood that this wasn’t tubbo’s first time dealing with the grief of losing a loved one. his talk made tubbo shed the first couple of tears. he’d cried every night after that. 

he’d wake up in the middle of the night and instead of tommy rushing over to help him, it’d be ranboo. his screams normally broke the hybrid out of his enderwalking state, so it was good for the two of them. the taller would sit down beside him and lull him back to sleep. he would hold him until the sun came up, even if tubbo hadn’t gone back to sleep that entire time. eyes wide open, eye bags increasing in size and decreasing in color. his eyes became less of a bright blue and more of a desaturated blue gray. he has no more motivation to comb his hair or do anything anymore. ranboo tries his best to help, but alas, his efforts are futile.

he walks to the hotel tommy was building before he died. jack had run away from hotel management after learning that tommy passed away. _he would be so proud of the progress sam’s been making with it._ tubbo thinks to himself. speaking of sam, the man himself is standing right beside him, his normal sam nook persona and all. 

_**tommy!** _ **sam thinks to himself. the blonde haired teen is back to normal, proving that it was, in fact, all just a bad dream. his blue eyes are filled with life just as they were from the start. the childlike wonder and determination still aflame within the deep and light blue hues. he’s smiling with a smile that’s twice as wide as sam’s. he puts on his sam nook persona, not wanting to let him down. it’s the least he can do after having him stuck with dream for 19 days.**

“hello tommyinnit! how may i help you today?” he greets tubbo. the brunette is always taken aback by this, no matter how many times it happens. it freaks him out that sam still believes that tommy is still walking this earth. 

“it’s just me again, sam.” tubbo sighs. 

**the crushing weight of reality hits sam like a fucking truck. in front of him isn’t stood an ambitious and energetic blonde boy, but a solemn brunette that wishes to forget, he feels bad for doing this to tubbo every time they meet. the pain of realizations stings his heart. tubbo’s eyes are sadder than his vision of tommy’s. his hair is uncombed and his eye bags get darker with every visit. he feels bad for the boy, having to deal with this all on his own. dealing with another loss of another loved one at such a young age. he hates the thought of tubbo waking up and crying in the middle of the night when he realizes that tommy can’t come to help him.**

“right, i’m sorry.” sam says, putting his sam nook persona away for yet another day. 


End file.
